333 Chapter 55, the Price of Turning Back

The day was much longer than Hoffa had imagined. Maybe the old Batty was very efficient. After a while, he heard the sound of apparition coming from above, and two people talking vaguely.

"Is it safe?"

"There seems to be no problem."

"Have you detected magic fluctuations?"

"It has been checked. Although it is very subtle, it covers a wide area. It is certain that there are traces of black magic."

"Very good."

"What are you going to do, Mr. Crouch."

"Go back first and keep an eye on me secretly."

"yes."

The voice of the conversation with Old Batty disappeared, and Old Batty walked down from the first floor of the dilapidated mill, and untied the ropes on Hoffa and Little Batty. Then, he took Hoffa and Barty Jr. by the arms, and the apparition disappeared with a snap.

crackling.

Accompanied by a light sound.

The three of them squeezed out of the apparition state, and as soon as they hit the ground, the cold wind from the hoarfrost hillside poured into Hoffa's throat.

He returned to the village of Little Hangleton, which was very different from when he had left, a bleak sun was spreading to the ground through the gap in the spiral. Under this grotesque light, the thick white mist is like a suffocating giant mattress, covering the entire village, suffocating life, and making the village desperately struggling to die as if suffering from hydrophobia.

The old Batty tied Hoffa into a rice dumpling with his backhand, so that he could only move his legs, then he pushed Hoffa, clasped the little Batty firmly with one hand, held his wand in the other, and said coldly: " You, hand over Voldemort's position."

"Hey! Don't push me."

Hoffa, who was tied into rice dumplings, narrowed his eyes and said.

"Stop talking nonsense."

Old Batty pointed at him with his wand, and the other hand in a black leather sheath grabbed Batty Jr.'s arm like a hook, without letting go.

Not only that, but Hoffa could also sense the faint prying intent in the distance. On the top of the mountain, in the houses on the mountainside, and even on the pine trees covered with frost, those should be the old Batty's men who stepped here in advance.

"follow me."

He said dawdly, chose a direction at random, and walked over with Batty and his son.

And not long after he disappeared, a little purple snake slowly crawled out from the place where the three disappeared, hissing and spitting out a letter.

Former Riddle House.

And on the dark upper floors of the mansion, a crumpled baby sits in an ornate chair, squinting at the open space below through a gap in the curtains.

In the open space, an old man waved his magic wand, leaving mysterious and strict marks on the ground. Standing behind him was a nervous, short middle-aged man. Every time after Nicolas May finished waving his wand, he would take out some potion powder from the big bag beside him and sprinkle it on the ground.

Just watching, a big snake slid silently to the side of the gorgeous chair and turned into a thin purple-haired woman. The woman half-kneeled, leaned against the side of the chair, held her hand and whispered a few words in the ear of the wrinkled baby. What.

Tom Riddle listened indifferently at first, but gradually, his expression became serious. After listening, his face was so gloomy that he was about to drip, and he said to Naniji: "Call the two people downstairs. "

The thin purple woman circled back into a giant snake, swam around the floor and disappeared, and slid out through the crack of the door.

After a while, there was the sound of stomping footsteps on the stairs, and the door opened, and the stooped Nicole Flamel and Peter Pettigrew stood in front of the door. Peter Pettigrew rubbed his hands obsequiously, and asked in a sharp voice, "Master, are you hungry, would you like some milk?"

"Shut up, Wormtail, and you can say another greeting next time."

Tom Riddle waved to Nicole Flamel listlessly: "Come here, Flamel."

Nicole Flamel stepped forward and said very dissatisfied: "What happened, call us up, our time is running out, we must seize every minute."

"No rush." ​​Tom Riddle said slowly, "How much progress has been made?"

"Eighty percent, if there are no special circumstances, I can definitely help you finish the work before the Triwizard Tournament."

"No special circumstances. Hmph." Voldemort stroked the armrest with soft fingers, and a dangerous red light flashed in his eyes from time to time. He suddenly asked, "Flame, how much do you know about Hoffa Bach when he was young?"

Nicole Flamel was taken aback: "What? Why are you asking me this?"

"I said, do you know your partner?"

Voldemort asked reluctantly.

"I know him, he's a very kind man."

Nicole Flamel said with a blank face.

"He is indeed kind and a little pedantic, but he is still on my side and serving me. If you want me to say, I am the greatest dark wizard of this century."

"what do you want to say?"

Nicole Flamel was a little impatient.

"What do you really know about his past?" Tom repeated the original question.

"Not much. In fact, I didn't hear much about him before 1937." Nicole Lemey said dryly.

"Oh, that's such a pity."

Voldemort was happy, and he played with his palm happily: "I grew up with that guy, and I know his likes and dislikes well. At the beginning, I had some conflicts with him because of a little thing, and I killed him. A cat, a cat The cat, he even came to me to reason in a fit of anger, and even pushed me into the sea without repentance, and the first thing he did when he got up from the sea was to bury the cat, hahahaha."

Nicolas Mai slowly put away the impatience on his face, and his expression became serious. I saw the gorgeous chair slowly turning around, making harsh friction sounds on the floor.

"Before Hofbach met you, he had a very good friend who was the daughter of Draces. I think you should know, right?"

Nicole Flamel's expression changed, but he still said: "I don't care who Hoffa Bach likes, whether it's cats or women, as long as he can fulfill my wish, even if he likes mice, it doesn't matter to me." .”

"For a person like him who is supremely emotional, forgetting is not easy. I bet you 10,000 Galleons that his desire to revive that person is definitely higher than your desire to revive your granddaughter."

"It has nothing to do with me, I only care about the result."

Nicole Flamel said coldly.

"And what if he comes to stop you?"

Tom Riddle continued to ask.

"Nanigi just told me a very interesting piece of information, saying that Hoffa Bach, who left here for half a year, is back."

"What? Are you kidding me?" Nicole Flamel said in astonishment, "What are you doing when you come back? We are obviously not ready for anything."

"Maybe he doesn't think it's worth it to trade the resurrection of a dark wizard for his own happiness? Who knows, big love and little love, moral standards and so on."

"impossible."

Nicole Flamel flatly denied it, but his expression was a little flustered.

"Not only did he come back, but he also came with a group of people from the Ministry of Magic. I think you know that person from the Ministry of Magic. He is known as the most stern and selfless Director of International Affairs in history, old Barty Crouch."

"ah?"

Nicole May stared blankly at the back of the chair and didn't speak for a long while.

I only heard a ruthless voice from behind the chair: "He has never been a guy driven by reason. He doesn't care about any interests or honors. But instead, he has an unusually strong sensibility, which leads him to often do Some out-of-the-ordinary things, some ordinary people seem stupid, but he takes it for granted.

I don't know what that guy Hoffa is doing here. I don't care whether he has a conscience or suddenly loses his nerve. I only know that if the Ministry of Magic knows my plan, you will never get a complete resurrection. . How to do it is up to you. "

"When are you going to take me?"

On the hillside covered with hoarfrost, Old Batty asked impatiently.

"It's almost there, it's almost there."

Hoffa said perfunctorily, he looked into the distance, where the sun was about to set, the earth was covered in dark blue, the mist filled the pale mountains, and the treetops trembled slightly from the frosted pine needles.

It has been several hours since the three of them came to Little Hangleton. During these hours, Hoffa has been leading old Batty around in the mountain stream, trying his best to delay the time until night. He knows that as long as night falls , he is safe.

"If I remember correctly, this is the third time you have come around this mountain." Old Batty pointed to the footprints on the snow: "What are you thinking?"

Hoffa, who was tied into a rice dumpling, didn't change his face: "I haven't been to this place a few times. Maybe Voldemort cast some kind of obfuscation spell here so that others can't find him."

boom!

Old Batty pressed Hoffa heavily on a fir tree, and the frost on the trembling tree fell straight away. He pinched Hoffa with one hand, turned his head and asked little Batty: "Is your master here?"

"asshole."

Little Barty clenched his fists suppressed and angry.

The old Batty unceremoniously put his knee on the little Batty's abdomen, kicked him to bend down, and asked again: "Does your damn master live here?"

Little Barty lowered his head without saying a word, and slammed into Old Barty's lower abdomen, trying to knock him to the ground, but he was still swung on the head by Old Barty, who was dizzy and pulled again. go back.

"Are you here?"

Old Barty asked persistently, like taming a wild horse, determined to make Little Barty bow his head.

His only answer was an angry chattering of teeth.

Hoffa sighed secretly, even after he said those things to Barty Jr., he still couldn't be a little softer in front of his father, even if he pretended a little bit.

He coughed heavily.

cough cough!

"exist"

Batty Jr. struggled to squeeze out a word from between his teeth.

Old Batty became more and more dissatisfied, and he looked at Hoffa with a strong killing intent in his eyes. But probably in order to find Voldemort, he endured his displeasure and let go of Hoffa's neck.

"lead the way."

Time passed by every minute and every second. After the sun fell to the horizon little by little, the sky darkened, and the air was filled with a faint smell of blood. A touch of excited red appeared on Hoffa's face. The silent blood was boiling in his body, and the flow rate was getting faster and faster quick.

Old Batty felt something, he tightened the rope holding Hoffa, and threatened: "I advise you not to be petty! If you can't find Voldemort within ten minutes, I will execute you immediately."

"It's coming soon."

Hoffa said softly.

A few minutes later, amidst the cold light, the last daylight completely sank from the side of the mountain into the shadows, and a green aurora swam across the sky like a snake.

During the march, Hoffa's steps became bigger and bigger, gradually changing from walking to running wildly. Old Batty finally realized that something was wrong, and he roared: "Catch him!!"

Whoosh whoosh!

Several Aurors burst out of the shadows of the trees.

Bark, it's like sounding the horn of battle.

At the second when the moonlight was first born, Hoffa's body swelled up like a balloon, and under the horror of old Batty, he broke free from the rope almost in the blink of an eye.

Old Barty, who was dragging the rope, was dragged to the ground and dragged a long way in the snow.

Couple of Aurors holding up their wands

"All petrified!"

"Damned!"

"Torn apart!"

Under the moonlight, Hoffa inserted one hand into his chest, and the moment the spell hit, he pulled out his palm.

In the splash of blood, his body disintegrated and turned into countless dancing nightingales.

Nightingale slammed into those Aurors, pecking at them screaming and hugging their heads, throwing away their wands.

Little Barty laughed, taking advantage of Hoffa's knockdown of old Barty's men, he also broke free from his father's shackles, kicked old Barty to the ground, and snatched his wand.

"Feng Shui turns around, old man!"

Little Barty happily pointed his wand at his father, happily chanting the spell: "Cruciate Carpal Bone!"

The red light flashed past, and old Batty let out a miserable scream, and he rolled crazily in the snow.

"You bastard!"

Old Batty curled up on the ground, his meticulous gray hair was scattered on his forehead in a mess, and he looked at his crazy-looking son in front of him with grief.

"Keep me in Azkaban for thirteen years, you will pay the price for the whole thirteen years!" Little Barty's hand holding the wand trembled like Parkinson, and he took a deep breath: "Avada"

Before the killing spell could be uttered, several nightingales swooped in, snatched his wand away, pushed him and pressed him against a tree, the nightingales danced in the air and gathered together, turning back into Hoffa again.

"You can't kill your father."

Hoffa pressed Little Barty firmly, shaking his shoulder: "You have killed thousands of times!"

"Then do it again!" Little Barty's eyes were as big as copper bells, and he looked at Hoffa frantically: "This loser is not worthy of being my father, Mr. Bach!"

Snapped! !

Hoffa slapped him on the face, and beat Barty Jr. to the ground.

He got up from the snow in a dazed state, so dizzy that he couldn't tell the direction.

"Stupid or not, do you think everything I say is fart?"

Hoffa yelled.

Little Batty immediately covered his head in fright, completely different from when he was scolded by old Batty.

"Leave England, leave London, leave your father's side, go outside, and never look back." Hoffa kicked him on the ass and kicked him far away: "Get out!"

Little Barty got up from the snow and said in a panic, "Where should I go? I don't know."

Hoffa snapped a piece of cedar, and Barty scrambled back ten meters.

Hoo hoo.

Hoffa took a deep breath, calmed down his emotions, and said to Barty Jr.: "Crouch, you can do far more than you imagined. Don't look any further, let's go, go quickly."

"How dare you let him go."

Old Batty got up from the ground, with disheveled hair, extremely hideous: "You let him go, you let him come over."

"Go away," Hoffa kicked the old Barty away, and urged the younger Barty: "Let's go, let's go."

Seeing Hoffa wanting his father, little Barty lost his mind for a moment, and he walked backwards, very slowly.

"Let's go!"

Hoffa yelled angrily, which scared him so much that he fell on the frosty ice and slid far away.

Old Batty struggled to get up from the ground, grabbed Hoffa's neck, "Do you think I don't know what kind of guy he is, what can he do except show his courage in front of me, if you let him out, he will be killed by those people There is no leftover food left!"

"Then let him go!"

"I promised her mother to protect him!"

"Hell, can't you trust him just once?"

"If he can become a weapon, a sow can climb a tree." After that, he waved his wand and pointed at Little Barty who was running in the distance: "He fainted!"

"You fart!"

Hoffa pressed the old Barty down again, and the spell deviated from the little Barty and disappeared into the dark night sky.

Alone, little Barty climbed to the foot of the mountain step by step and looked back three times. He kept looking back at Hoffa and old Barty who were torn together, with extremely hesitant expressions.

At this time, a train bound for the unknown came from the mountain stream and stopped at Little Hangleton with a bang. Some pedestrians with big bags and small bags got off the train. Shouted, "Get in the car, get out of here!"

Little Barty saw the train parked in front of him and held onto the railing.

"Go away. Go away and don't look back"

Hoffa looked at little Barty's back with great anticipation, and held down old Barty tightly. He had never been like this moment, hoping that little Barty would leave this place quickly. If he could leave, it would mean a cycle Not unbreakable.

"Ha ha ha ha."

Old Barty laughed for some reason. He pushed Hoffa away with a force out of thin air, stumbled a few steps towards the foot of Little Hangleton Hill, and shouted: "Stop, brat!"

Hearing his father's shout, Little Barty involuntarily let go of his hand holding the iron door of the train, and turned his head to look.

"Fack!!"

Seeing him turn around, Hoffa went crazy. He took three steps forward, grabbed Old Batty's arm, and covered his mouth with his other hand to prevent him from making a sound.

In the night, little Barty looked at the hillside from afar.

He passed by him in the crowd, his face was blank, he didn't know what he was thinking at all.

subsequently.

Puff!

There was a soft sound.

Without warning.

A knife tip pierced out of his chest at some point, as light as a dragonfly on water.

"No!!"

Old Batty, who was dragged by Hoffa, broke free from Hoffa's palm, his legs went limp, and he almost couldn't stand still.

Hoffa's eyes widened suddenly.

In the distance, Little Barty, who was the same as the little dot, looked at the sharp knife that suddenly protruded from his chest, touched the sharp tip of the knife in a daze, and then fell to the snow with a plop.

The train rumbled away, and at the place where Barty Crouch Jr. fell down, a short figure and a crooked figure appeared in the shadows.

The short figure among them took a step forward, pulled out the dagger from the little Batty's chest, wiped it on the dirty trouser legs, and looked flatteringly at the white-haired old man beside him: "Is this all right?"